James Moore - SNAFU - Hunters

Nathan fired off a few rounds just as the creature snapped forward, pulled Kyle screaming from the Sampan, and dragged him under the water.

“Jesus!”

“Fuck!”

They scanned the water, weapons ready. Bubbles rose to the surface. Then pieces of Kyle floated up: arms, legs, torso… then his head. His dead face stared upwards, bobbing gently in the water.

“God! It got Kyle.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“What was that thing?”

“Wasn’t a fucking snake.”

“There it is,” Leon shouted. A large ripple moved across the surface, darting left and right, retreating into the distance.

Nathan popped a high explosive canister into the 40mm attachment and levelled the barrel. He trained the weapon on the retreating ripple then fired. THUNK . The round struck the surface and exploded violently. BOOM . The blast sent a splash thirty feet in the air and lit the river like daylight. The shock-wave hit like a wall of wind, then a sheet of water fell across the men, and a wave surged over their feet.

Simon stared at the water. “You got it, right?”

“Maybe,” Nathan said. “But we’re not sticking around to find out.”

“We’re leaving?” Donaldson shouted. “We just found the enemy and you’re gonna run?”

“I don’t know what that thing was, but there could be more of ‘em around. And right now we’re engaging on their terms.” Nathan glanced around. “Into the boat,” he ordered. “Let’s go.”

Leon, Simon, the Professor, and Deacon moved into the Zodiac.

“What do we do about him?” Buck pointed at Hiro; the addict, motionless in the sampan.

“We’ll take him,” Nathan said. “He might know something.”

Buck grabbed Hiro’s arms to pull him from the sampan but the man struggled, shouting in Vietnamese.

“He says leave him here,” Bao translated.

“I got that part.”

“We’ll take his stash,” Nathan said. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to come along then.”

Buck grabbed Hiro’s bag and tossed it to Nathan. Hiro screamed, and his head tracked the motion of the bag through the air into Nathan’s waiting hand.

“Come and get it.” Nathan dangled the bag at arm’s length. Hiro leapt from the sampan into knee-deep water. He splashed forwards, lunging through the river to the prize of heroin.

For an instant, a terrifying sensation gripped Nathan. A penetrating tingle in the base of his skull. Primal instinct, subconscious awareness.

Nathan turned and dropped to a knee. He felt the rush of wind as a serrated limb whizzed past overhead – the arm of a creature that stood just a few feet away. Nathan pulled the trigger on his CAR-15, emptying the rest of the magazine into that monstrous green torso. The rounds blew through its body, exploded out its back, and turned its body into green Swiss cheese. The creature leapt into the canopy, oozing from its fresh wounds.

Nathan spun to screams and gunfire. His men were fighting two more of the green horrors. The sampan was painted with a coat of blood and chunks that used to be Buck. There was a flurry of gore where the creature’s arms thrashed like a giant blender working its way over the corpse. The Zodiac was ripped up and deflated, most of its compartments slashed open, and half sunk into the river.

Deacon scrambled back to land, Leon unloaded his stoner, spraying wildly, and Professor fired off a few clean shots with his SKS. Donaldson stood his ground and fired with his M1, yelling like a mad man. Simon was spread across the top of the water in a five-yard radius.

Nathan reloaded and took aim, but the monsters submerged, disappearing into the water. Nathan and Leon provided covering fire, unloading into the river as the squad retreated to the forest. Nathan couldn’t identify the voices shouting over each other in the chaos.

“Go, go, go!”

“They’re in the river.”

“Run.”

“Wait,” Nathan shouted.

“Are you crazy? Why?” Deacon shouted.

“It’s Bao,” Nathan said, moving quickly.

Bao lay prostrate beside the river, partly slumped over mangrove roots. His clothes were soaked in blood, two bullet holes in his torso.

“Shit,” Deacon muttered.

“One of you fucks hit Bao,” Nathan said, and took a knee beside Bao, who groaned, coughing up blood.

“How bad is it?” Deacon asked.

Nathan just shook his head. There wasn’t much he could say.

“Maybe we can radio for an extraction?” Deacon said, sounding defeated.

Nathan motioned to what was left of Buck, their radio man, and the wrecked the sampan. “No radio.”

“My guess is the jarhead shot him,” Leon said.

“Shut up,” Donaldson said. “I prob’ly just saved your ass.”

“Like hell you did.”

“Put a few bullets in that thing behind you,” Donaldson said with a glare. “You would’ve known that if you didn’t lose your shit.”

“He’s right,” Deacon squared off with Leon. “Did you even fuckin’ aim?”

“You’re not gonna blame me for this. We’re only here because of your stupid fucking dolphins.”

“Fuck you.”

“What?” Donaldson raised an eyebrow. “Dolphins?”

“You didn’t know?” Leon asked. “He’s a dolphin trainer for the Navy. They only set up this op’ ‘cause he lost a couple of his pets.”

“Wait a minute. So you wouldn’t come out here when they were killin’ marines - when they killed my brother - but you’d come out here for a goddamn pet fish?”

“Dolphins aren’t fish,” the professor said.

“Shut up.”

There was a flash of motion from behind, and Nathan felt a sudden tug. He turned, ready to shoot, or die trying. But it was only Hiro, the boatman The addict had a tight grip on the bag of heroin looped over Nathan’s shoulder. Nathan wrestled the bag from Hiro’s grip then shoved him back. Hiro tripped on a root and landed on his back.

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed? I almost blasted you!”

Hiro spoke calmly, pleading, and motioned to the bag.

“I think he wants a hit.” Deacon stated the obvious.

“Not really the time, is it?”

Hiro continued talking, a stream of unintelligible Vietnamese.

“Hey, I think Bao’s tryin’ to say something,” Deacon said.

Bao groaned.

“What is it, buddy?” Nathan asked his wounded friend. “You should take it easy.”

“He says-” Bao coughed. “If you let him have some he will help you survive.” Leon stifled a laugh, but Bao continued. “He says he knows how to kill the demons.”

“He might know something useful,” the Professor said.

“The hell could he know?” Leon scoffed.

“He must live around here,” the Professor said. “He could’ve learned something about those things, whatever they are.”

“Let him have a hit,” Deacon said. “Let’s see what he knows.”

Nathan hesitated then held out the open bag. Hiro rushed over and reached inside, pulling out a small straw and a tiny plastic bag with white powder before promptly inhaling the contents. He closed his eyes and twitched subtly, then his face relaxed.

“Are you supposed to snort heroin?” Leon asked.

“Sure,” the Professor said. “You can snort it, inject it, smoke it. You can even eat it.”

“Forget that,” Nathan said. “We need to find out what he knows before those things come back. Bao? Bao?”

Bao was motionless.

“Christ.” Nathan shook his head. “Sorry, Bao.”

“Now what? Those things wrecked our ride,” Leon said.

“We’ll walk,” Nathan said. “But first let’s get away from this river. With those things in the water, we’ll be safer moving through the forest.”

They headed out in diamond formation. Nathan took point. Professor took rear security. Leon was on the left, Deacon the right. Donaldson took the centre, escorting Hiro. They marched a long time, deeper into the forest, without speaking.